


for the girl who has everything

by melissa13



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon Compliant, F/M, Series Finale, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissa13/pseuds/melissa13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dangerous, parasitic creature traps Emma in a fantasy life in The Enchanted Forest where there was no curse, while Killian and Henry try desperately to save her before she's lost to the fantasy forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for the girl who has everything

**Author's Note:**

> I've always always wanted this sort of premise to be the series finale of OUAT, where Emma falls into a fantasy where the curse was never cast, so when I saw the episode of Supergirl by the same title, I knew that I had to write a similar story for Emma. It's not necessary to watch that episode at all or be familiar with the show. Just know that the creature looks like this:
> 
> http://www.imdb.com/media/rm880010496/tt4559950?ref_=ttmd_md_pv

Emma swam slowly to consciousness, snuggled tight in the fluffy comforter that blanketed her and Killian’s king size bed. Eyes still closed, she stretched out a hand behind her, seeking him out, but was instead met with chilly sheets. Pouting, she opened her eyes to find herself alone, her handsome pirate nowhere to be found. Instead, she found a piece of paper lying on his pillow, and she recognized his loopy penmanship instantly. Curious, she pulled it towards her, lips curling up as she read his words.

_Swan,_

_Happy birthday, love. You looked so peaceful sleeping, I hadn’t the heart to wake you. Henry and I have absconded early to run a few last minute errands for your day, so you have the morning to yourself. Downstairs on the kitchen table you will find a few tokens of felicitations from around the community. As for myself, I look forward to_ _properly_ _wishing you a happy birthday when I return; in fact, I shall hardly think of anything else._

_All my love,_

_Killian_

Emma smirked at his underlining of the word ‘properly’, and imagined one spine-tingling kiss that probably would not be appropriate for Henry’s eyes.

She clutched the paper to her chest, thinking about how different this birthday would be from the one she’d had 6 years ago, blowing out a candle alone in her sparse apartment, imagining the family she’d never had all around her. In the years that followed, she’d sometimes thought about what it would have been like to grow up in the Enchanted Forest with her parents, what kind of life she’d have lead, what her birthdays there would have consisted of: a big ball thrown in her honor, no doubt, with a triple-tiered cake with lots of candles and her parents beside her urging her to make a wish.  

Emma smiled wistfully. She hadn’t thought about those fantasies in a while, but it was sometimes fun to let her imagination run wild a bit. Next year’s birthday would be even more different, she realized, laying her hand across her still flat stomach.

Yesterday, after a few consecutive mornings of ending up on her knees in the bathroom throwing up her breakfast, she’d finally taken a pregnancy test, and if the little pink plus sign was any indication, she was pregnant again. At first Emma had been terrified, feeling like that 17-year-old girl in the jail cell again, but then she realized how irrational she was being. She had everything that 17-year-old girl hadn’t; parents who believed in her, the greatest son in the world, and a man who was constantly coming up with new ways to show her how much he loved her.

She and Killian had been through so much, had fought so hard for a future that had seemed impossible at times. Tonight, she would finally tell Killian the good news and she knew he would be just as happy and excited as she was.

Stretching happily, Emma spied the clock on her bedside table, it’s red numbers reading 10:14. Even if it was her birthday, she probably shouldn’t just lay in bed all morning, no matter how appealing the idea.

She went about her usual morning routine, showering and making the bed neatly so she didn't get scolded by her ridiculously meticulous pirate. When she made it downstairs, the house was still quiet, a sign that her boys were still out and about. On the kitchen counter there was a box of bear claws with a note that said, “Happy birthday, Mom!” and she grinned before happily digging in, thankful that her favorite breakfast food agreed with her stomach today.

She had a mouth full of bear claw when she noticed the pile of presents Killian had mentioned on the table. Emma picked through it, shaking her head in amused exasperation when she spied a Doctoberfest cup amongst the collection. Most of the presents were cards from various townspeople, and Emma read them all with a fond smile on her face.

A relatively large black box tied with a thick white ribbon sat amongst the pile and Emma eyed it skeptically, hoping Jefferson hadn't given her another strange top hat like he did last year. She shook the box experimentally. Whatever was inside was definitely heavier than a hat, she determined. Frowning slightly, Emma untied the ribbon and popped open the top, and suddenly had to duck as _something_ came springing out.

“What the hell?” she exclaimed, looking wildly around for the thing or creature that had come from the box. She could hear it making a mess of her living room judging by the shattering of glass that sounded like her side table lamp. She cautiously inched into her living room, hands raised, ready to blast the thing with her magic, when the noises suddenly stopped.

Emma’s eyes darted from side to side, but there was no movement. A sudden tingling on the back of her neck prompted her to turn around, but it was too late. The creature was on her in an instant, wrapping its tentacles around her body, and the last thing she saw before she hit the ground was the black box lying on its side next to the kitchen table. Then, there was only darkness.

* * *

“You think we went a little overboard?” Henry asked, juggling two shopping bags full of decorations in his hands.

“Hmm, well your mum will probably think so,” Killian answered, one grocery bag hanging from his hook, and another tucked under his arm. He cast a conspiratorial grin at the boy. “All the more reason, then, eh?”

Henry nodded, returning his grin, and climbed up the stairs ahead of him, bursting into the house. Killian followed at a more sedately pace, chuckling to himself.

“Mom, we’re-Mom?!”

Fear and shock colored Henry’s voice and Killian’s head snapped up. He rushed inside, dropping the grocery bags by the front door and looked around wildly until he found Henry. All the blood drained from his face. Henry was kneeling beside Emma, who lay prostrate on the hardwood floor of the living room, a creature with tentacles wrapped around her body. She lay as still as the grave, eyes closed, but he could clearly see her chest rise and fall as he knelt down on her other side.

“Mom?” Henry asked, his voice stricken with panic. “Mom, wake up!”

The boy reached a hand out to the creature, as if to pry him off his mother’s chest, but Killian was quick to stop him.

“Don’t touch it!” Killian said quickly, grabbing Henry’s wrist only an inch away from the creature. “We don’t know what it will do if we try to take it off of her. It could attack you as well.” He released his hand and sought out Henry’s eyes. “Call your grandparents and Regina. Tell them to get over here as quickly as they can.”

Henry nodded, springing up and away, but not before casting a worried look at his mother before he went. Killian stayed knelt down next to her, eyeing the creature with caution. It’s green tentacles were wrapped around Emma’s midsection and shoulders, while its dark red body with smaller, numerous tentacles sat squarely on her chest. He smoothed a hand across her hair, down to caress her pale cheek.

“Emma, it’s Killian,” he murmured. “Can you hear me, love?”

There was no response, no indication that she even knew he was there. His eyes sweep over the room, alert for any other signs of struggle or any clue as to where this creature might have come from. There was a smashed lamp on the floor nearby, but his eyes were drawn to a black box on the floor next to the kitchen table. He stood, reluctantly moving away from Emma to investigate. The box was empty except for a simple white card inside that read only,

“For The Girl Who Has Everything."

* * *

Emma groaned as she slowly awoke, a blinding light behind her eyes. Had she and Killian forgotten to close the drapes again before bed? Nearby, she could hear the sound of footsteps as someone moved about the room.

“Killian,” she mumbled, fighting off the sleep. Her brain felt foggy, and she struggled to remember what had happened before she’d gone to sleep.

“Your Highness, you’re up!” a chipper voice came, and Emma opened her eyes to find a young woman standing at her bedside.

She suddenly felt wide awake.

“Whoa, who are you?” Emma asked, sitting up abruptly and finding herself dressed in a flowy, white nightgown. “What the hell am I wearing?”

“Language, my lady,” the woman chided, while ignoring both of her questions. She had no distinguishing features besides her brown hair and was wearing a simple blue gown. Emma had never seen her before in her life. “How are you feeling? You’re bound to be a little disoriented after your ordeal.”

“I’ll feel a lot better when you tell me who you are and where I am,” Emma snapped, her eyes moving to take in her surroundings.

She blinked rapidly as everything finally shifted into focus. She was in a grand room, full of opulent baubles and furniture, none more so than the large four poster bed she was sitting in, completely with a sheer canopy overhead. The room looked familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Suddenly, a glint of white light caught her eye, and she pushed back the covers, intent on seeing what it was.

“Your Highness, you shouldn’t be out of bed yet,” the woman protested, but Emma ignored her.

Hanging by the window, catching the sun and casting rainbows all over the room, were the glass unicorns Mary Margaret had shown her in Gold’s shop a few years ago. Emma palmed one lightly, watching the light bounce off of it and remembered her mother’s words.

“These unicorns were supposed to hang above my crib when I was a baby,” Emma said softly, before whipping around to look at the other woman accusingly. “How did they get here?”

“We moved them here when you outgrew the nursery.”

Relief and surprise flooded through Emma as the familiar voice, and she turned towards the now open door of the room. “Mom?”

Her mother stood in the doorway, but it was her mother as Emma had only seen her in the past; her dark hair went past her shoulders and she was clad in an Enchanted Forest gown of blue. Her face lit up as she walked towards Emma, pulling her into the most comforting of embraces, and comfort Emma it did because if her mother was here, it meant her father, Henry, and Killian couldn’t be far away.

“Oh, honey, you had us so worried,” her mother said, and Emma drew back, eyes flitting around the room in confusion.

“Mom, what is going on?” she asked haltingly. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Snow asked, concern marring her fair face. “Sweetheart, you’ve been laid up in bed with swan flu for weeks. Doc wasn’t sure you were even going to make it through!”

“ _Swan_ flu?” Emma repeated incredulously. “There’s no such thing. Mom, how did we end up back in The Enchanted Forest? Was it another curse?”

“Curse?” Snow echoed, her brow furrowing. She laid the back of her hand against Emma’s forehead. “I think the fever is still affecting you, dear. Winifred, please send for Doc.”

The other woman in the room curtseyed and left without another word.

“It’s not the fever,” Emma said after she had gone, fending off her mother’s hand, unable to keep the panic from rising within her. The unicorns caught her eye again. “Wait, you said you moved the unicorns here when I outgrew the nursery?” she asked Snow, and the woman nodded. “I didn’t even spend a _single day_ in that nursery.”

Her mother smiled again as if she were indulging a young child. “What do you mean, dear?”

“Regina’s curse?” Emma fired off. “You and Dad put me in a magic wardrobe and sent me to the Land Without Magic where I spent 28 years of my life alone before I finally found you? Any of this ringing a bell?”

Snow put her hands on Emma’s shoulders, looking completely unperturbed by her freak out. “Oh, Emma,” she said gently, sweeping a lock of Emma’s hair out of her face. “The fever must have given you terrible hallucinations. But it’s over now. You’re awake. You’re safe. And you’re home. Just as you’ve always been.”

Her mother drew her into her embrace again, and a memory swept over Emma of being hugged like this when she was a child, awakening from a particularly awful nightmare. Snow had wiped her tears away and curled her arms around her tight, and Emma had felt safe, like everything would be alright as long as her mother was there. So, she ignored the little voice in her head that told her something was wrong and closed her eyes, resting her chin on her mother’s shoulder.

* * *

By the time Mary Margaret, David, Regina, and Robin arrived at the house, Killian had carefully lifted Emma from the floor and placed her on the couch. There was no response from her at his touch or from the creature, whose shorter red tentacles swayed almost serenely.

“Who could have done this?” Mary Margaret asked, the white note that had been in the box clutched in her hand.

“Well, you Charmings have made no shortage of enemies the last few years,” Regina commented dryly. Everyone, Killian included, turned to look at her, and she grimaced. “Not helpful, got it.”

“I’ve never seen such a thing before,” Robin said, coming to his love’s aid, peering down at the creature curiously. “Is it from this world?”

“No, which means it could be from anywhere,” David sighed in frustration.

“I don’t bloody well care where it came from,” Killian snapped, his impatience rearing its head. “How do we get it off her?”

“That I _can_ help with,” Regina said, cracking her knuckles. She motioned everyone back, and Killian reluctantly withdrew from Emma’s side.

The former Evil Queen held her hands out over the creature, a look of pure concentration on her face. Energy shot of out of Regina’s fingers and wrapped around the creature’s torso, lifting it off of Emma, and Killian internally started to rejoice, when suddenly Emma started convulsing.

“What’s happening?” David exclaimed, making to move towards his daughter, but being held back by Mary Margaret.

“Regina, stop,” Killian said urgently. The creature was lifted up enough so that he could see it was completely suctioned to Emma’s chest.

“I’ve got this,” Regina told him, gritting her teeth.

Emma thrashed on the couch, her mouth opened in a silent scream though her eyes were still closed. Foam began forming at the corner of her mouth as the tug of war between Regina and the beast went on.

“It’s hurting Emma!” Killian shouted, and without any concern for his own safety, knelt back down at her side, trying to keep her still.

The front door suddenly slammed open, and running footsteps came into the living room.

“Stop!” Belle commanded, as she came to a halt next to Regina. The brunette beauty had a large tome clutched to her chest. “You have to stop or you’ll kill her!”

Regina immediately dropped her hands and the creature fell back onto Emma who writhed for another few seconds before becoming still again.

* * *

Emma pulled back from Snow, a restless, harried feeling sweeping through her.

“None of this makes any sense,” she said, pacing away from her mother. Outside the window she could see the great expanse of the Enchanted Forest. She remembered walking through the forest, a hooded cloak on, but the memory was jumbled. “It has to be another curse. You’ve lost your memories again or someone’s manipulating mine. I just have to figure out who.”

“Emma, _Emma_ , please calm down,” Snow said, following her, and almost running into her when Emma stopped abruptly.

Draped over a chaise lounge across the room, was a blanket of cream and purple.

“My baby blanket,” Emma whispered, walking towards it and carefully picking it up as if it would disappear in a wisp of smoke. She brushed her fingers across the purple stitching of her name.

“Your father wrapped you up in that the minute you were born,” Snow said from behind her. “You’ve always kept it close by.”

“I used to carry it around with me everywhere,” Emma recalled, cuddling the soft fabric close to her chest.

“And then the maids would scold you when you’d get it dirty and take it away to get cleaned,” her mother reminded her.

Emma laughed. “I would cry and sulk for hours until finally they brought it back to me.”

“See, you do remember,” Snow said, laying her hand on Emma’s shoulder.

Emma’s smile faded and she gently placed the blanket back down on the chaise. “But I also remember being alone,” she said, facing her mother. “I remember foster home after foster home  and wishing my parents would come find me and take me away.”

“Emma--”

“No,” Emma said, backing away from her. “After I finally found you guys, I fantasized about what my life would have been like if the curse had never happened, but this isn’t right. I’m going to find out what’s going on and then I’m going home.”

“But you are home, Emma,” Snow insisted.

“You keep saying that, but it’s not true,” Emma said, pacing again. “This isn’t my home, my home is back in…back in...” She paused, the answer on the tip on her tongue. Images flashed before her eyes. A diner, a clock tower, a three story house with a white picket fence. “ _Storybrooke_.”

_Why had it taken her so long to remember the name?_

“Honey, I think you’re confused,” Snow said. She scoffed. “I could never send you away, let alone to a land without magic.”

But no, that wasn’t right. None of this was right, Emma thought desperately. She shook her head and turned and fled out the double doors and down the stone corridor. Tapestries and suits of armor decorated the walls, and Emma even swore she passed a portrait of her younger self in a pale pink gown, but she ignored it all.

“This isn’t real,” she muttered to herself. “None of this is real. It’s not real.”

“What’s not real?”

“Dad?”

Her father suddenly appeared in her path, wearing the same clothes he’d worn at the ball Arthur had thrown for them when they’d all arrived in Camelot. Or was it the outfit he’d worn for the Solstice Ball this past year? She distinctly remembered him twirling her around and around the ballroom, making her breathless with laughter. But no, that couldn’t be.

Snow suddenly appeared behind Charming, giving Emma a searching look.

“You’re not real,” Emma declared, turning back the way she’d came. “This cannot be real.”

She hurried barefoot over the stone hallway away from them, however, when she crossed the threshold of her bedroom, she found Snow and Charming standing there in front of her.

“It’s the fever again,” Charming told her. “You’re confused, Emma.”

“I’m not-I’m not confused,” Emma said, cursing herself for sounding just that. “Something is wrong. Someone’s cast another curse on us, Rumplestiltskin or maybe Maleficent. You know, I thought she gave me a funny look yesterday back in...umm...” It was on the tip of her tongue again, but no matter how hard she thought, the name just wouldn’t come. “Why can’t I remember?” she practically growled.

“Because there’s nothing to remember, Emma,” her mother soothed with the same quiet patience she’d been exhibiting. “It was a dream, a nightmare by the sounds of it, and nothing more.”

“But I can still feel it,” Emma insisted weakly. She could see everything in her mind’s eye. “Glimpses of a town, a yellow bug, a red leather jacket. There are people there who need me. Friends. Family.”

But wasn’t her family here? Wasn’t this her mother and father standing in front of her? Who was she missing? She couldn’t shake the feeling that there were more.

“Mom?”

Emma couldn’t turn around quick enough, feeling all of the oxygen leave her lungs.

“Henry?”

He stood by the window (how had she not seen him come in?), and Emma hurried over to him, sweeping him into her arms. He’d gotten so tall, he would be towering over her soon.

“Boy am I glad to see you, kid,” she said into his shoulder, squeezing him tight. When she released him, she straightened up his tunic and brushed his hair back.

Henry smiled brightly at her. “Like I would skip out on birthday tradition.”

A mug appeared in his hand seemingly out of nowhere, and Emma’s face lit up in anticipation. “Hot cocoa?” she asked, taking it from him.

“Your favorite,” Henry answered.

Emma took a sip, savoring the warm, chocolatey taste. “Mmm, with cinnamon,” she said.

“Just the way you like it,” her son said. “Happy birthday, Mom.”

Emma smiled at him, lifting the cocoa to her lips again. And just like that she could remember past birthdays with Henry, them sneaking down to the castle’s massive kitchens for hot cocoa, her parents even joining on occasion. Emma glanced up, having forgotten Snow and Charming were there, and found them smiling at her. They moved closer to where Emma and Henry stood in the window, Snow linking arms with her and Charming slinging his arm over Henry’s shoulders.

“You awoke just in time for your birthday ball,” Snow told her excitedly.

She nodded out the window, and Emma peered down at the bustling courtyard below. Servants were running to and fro, setting up tables, carrying massive trays of food or decorations, and there was a large banner leading into the castle that read, “Happy Birthday Princess Emma.”

“A ball?” she asked. “For me?”

“Of course,” Charming said with a smile. “The people of our kingdom celebrate the birth of their beloved Princess every year. Don’t forget, you promised to save me a dance tonight.”

“And me!” Henry piped up. “I’ve been practicing my moves.”

He bowed somewhat awkwardly to Emma and she laughed, releasing her mother so that she could curtsey back, a gesture as natural as breathing. Henry held out his hand and she took it, and he began leading her around her bedroom humming music loudly. Over his head, she beamed at her parents, suddenly at a loss as to what she’d been so troubled by earlier.

* * *

Killian quickly checked Emma’s throat for a pulse and exhaled a deep relieved breath when he found it.

“She’s alright,” he reassured Henry and her parents before turning his glare on Regina. “What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted a venus fly trap as a third bed companion,” Regina sneered at him. “My mistake.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Mary Margaret snapped, looking at them both sternly. “What did you find, Belle?”

“All I had to go off was the picture Henry texted me, but I think I’ve got it,” she told them, setting the opened book the coffee table. “The creature is called The Black Mercy. It’s a telepathic parasite that traps its victims in lifelike hallucinations. To injure one is to hurt the other, that’s why Emma started convulsing when Regina tried to remove it.”

“When you say 'lifelike hallucinations'...” Robin started uneasily.

“Her perfect fantasy life,” Belle clarified, and Killian felt a knot of dread settle in his stomach. “A dream that grows more and more real with every moment that passes.”

“How do we break her out of it then, if removing the creature is out of the question?” Killian asked.

Belle looked at him directly, her brown eyes solemn. “That’s just it,” she said. “Emma herself has to be the one to reject the fantasy. Only then will the creature break it’s hold on her.”

Killian looked away, pulling at his hair in agitation. How was he supposed to sit around and wait while this creature was sucking the life out of Emma? His faith in her strength, physical and mental, was limitless, but her _perfect fantasy life_? For a woman such as Emma who had endured so much pain and had so many obstacles thrown in her path, rejecting such a fantasy would be the most formidable of trials. There had to be something they could do.

Henry was obviously thinking the same. “There’s no way we can help her?”

Killian turned back to see Belle looking indecisive. “There might be something, but it would be pretty risky,” she told them.

“We’ll try anything,” David affirmed, and Henry nodded, a similar look of determination on his face.

“Well, if there’s no way to physically fight the creature, we might be able to do it mentally,” Belle explained. She looked to Regina. “Is it possible for one person to enter another’s subconscious using magic?”

Regina frowned, considering it. “A mind meld,” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t see why not.”

“What’re you two on about?” Killian asked, his patience spreading thin the longer they were standing around doing nothing.

The queen narrowed her eyes at him, but answered him nonetheless. “I can magically connect Emma’s mind to someone else’s, allowing that person to enter her fantasy and try and convince her to reject it,” she clarified.

“And the risks?” Mary Margaret asked.

Regina and Belle exchanged a grave look. “Once I’ve connected the two together, I won’t be able to disconnect them,” Regina told them all. “It’ll be up to them to convince Emma that it’s not real, or they’ll both be stuck in the fantasy forever or until the Black Mercy kills them, whichever comes first.”

The room was silent as the gravity of the situation sunk in. For Killian, thought, the answer it was quite simple.

“Shall we begin, then?” he asked Regina. “Where do you want me?”

He supposed it was a testament to how much had changed that there were no wary looks or protests as Regina directed him to the other couch. Before he went, he pressed a kiss to Emma’s forehead. _I’m coming for you, Swan._

He lay with his head towards Emma, their couches being perpendicular to each other and mentally prepared himself.

“Killian?”

He looked up at Mary Margaret to find her looking at him with anxious but trusting eyes. “Bring her back to us,” was all the former princess said.

Killian gave her a deep nod. “I will,” he said, looking from her to David, and finally alighting on Henry. “I promise.”

Henry nodded in return and Killian moved to settle himself down when something occurred to him. “The person responsible for this is still out there,” he reminded them all. “Thought I don’t doubt their intention to cause Emma real harm, this could all be a diversion from their real objective.”

“We’ll look into it,” David assured him. “Good luck.”

Killian nodded, casting his gaze up at Regina who had come to stand before him and Emma. She stretched out a hand to each of them, and Killian closed his eyes, bracing himself for what he would have to do. His last thought before Regina’s magic hit him was that the gods were mocking him. How could tear away his love away from her own personal heaven, when she herself had gone and rescued him from hell?

**Author's Note:**

> That's Part One! I've got Part Two all planned out but I'm not sure when it'll be up, hopefully some time next week. Anyone got any guesses on who sent Emma the box?? Please let me know what you think! :)


End file.
